


All Tied Up and Nowhere to Go

by HARMONICSTRIFE



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adrian Toomes Learns His Lesson, Adrian Toomes is an Asshole Until He Isn’t, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming to an Understanding, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It’s 2:49 am here help, Minor Injuries, Missing Scene, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Reconciliation, Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28448745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HARMONICSTRIFE/pseuds/HARMONICSTRIFE
Summary: This story takes place between the battle on Coney Island and when Happy finds Toomes tied to a pile of cargo - my take on a missing scene.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker (mentioned), Peter Parker & Adrian Toomes, Tony Stark & Peter Parker (mentioned)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65
Collections: Rewrite the Game - Harmony + Darksun's Writing Challenge





	All Tied Up and Nowhere to Go

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for any mistakes. 
> 
> -
> 
> Challenge Week 1, Prompt: Fire

Walking out of a fire with Toomes—his crush's father, the man who tried to steal from Tony Stark, the man who'd been selling illegal weapons, the man who'd been trying to kill him—in his arms was not even an outcome Peter had even considered before going into the fight.

Yet, it was the only real outcome, because Peter couldn't let anyone die.

-

Even after he'd been slammed into, tossed about, punched, and knocked out, he hadn't an ounce of bloodlust. As a hero, he couldn't let the idea of retaliation cloud his thoughts. He had priorities set out and that was to retrieve Tony's belongings. Nowhere in his mind was there the idea of killing Toomes, even if that had been a part of the other male's agenda. 

It was why he tried to stop him, why he tried to hold him down instead of letting him take off in a suit that would have inevitably killed him. When the web that he'd been pulling him down with snapped and the explosion occurred, he watched the man's body fall to the ground, even more fire erupting around the damaged suit. In a surge of panic, he ignored the ache in his body, the deafening ring in his ears, and the bleary vision and scrambled to his feet. Disorientated, he ran (stumbled) straight into the flames, headed to the sight of the explosion.

It was scorching, the atmosphere thick with smoke, making it hard to breathe properly. It taxed on his already battered body, and despite his biological advancements, it proved to be a rather difficult feat. 

While traversing through the blazing terrain, he encountered a heap of metal on the ground, fire consuming it. A hand and a leg peeked out from underneath, and Peter sought to free him.

With the strength that remained within him, he managed to lift the destroyed metal suit off of Toomes's body. Peter then knelt down, hoisting up the elder and throwing him over his shoulder (the good one—his other one had been knocked by one of the mechanical wings in the beginning of their battle). 

As he stood back up, he realized with delayed dismay that he would have to walk back through the ring of flames. Slowly, with Toomes's weight on his shoulder, he retraced his steps. When it came to crossing the wall of fire that he'd run through, he decided to pick up the pace once more to avoid burning himself and the other man. Once past the barrier, he sucked in a deep breath and continued to walk the two of them to safety. 

Distantly, he thought he could hear police sirens, which would most certainly not call for a good encounter, considering he was unmasked and Toomes had yet to be detained in case he came to. He had to make quick work, spurring him on to walk faster. 

When he finally reached a part of the beach with minimal fire, he placed Toomes down, allowing himself to rest briefly on the sand. He took in a few deep breaths, the air much more clear. He turned to look back at the plane wreck, and his heart sank to his stomach when he realized how bad it was. Belatedly, with a sense of dread, he realized Tony's belongings remained in the wreckage. 

When he craned his neck back around, he'd noticed that Toomes had come to, but wasn't sure if he was fully aware of the situation quite yet. He stood back up on his feet, grabbing onto his bad shoulder after accidentally agitating it on his way up. Looking down at Toomes, their gazes locked on one another. 

Peter was half expecting the man to rise again, to start yet another fight that would more than likely end in more of a mess, but instead, he just laid there, defeated. It took Peter a moment to realize that it's because he had no suit, and without that, he really couldn't do anything. Underneath that suit, unlike Peter, he wasn't enhanced, and therefore was most likely hurting and burned and capable for something such as that without the aid of a device. 

The man stayed there, breathing heavily and coughing. Peter watched him for a few moments, contemplating on what the hell to do, only to have his thoughts interrupted by the other male's voice, which sounded rather weak. 

"You're insane, kid," Toomes groaned. 

Peter pressed his lips together. "Yeah, I know," he breathed in response. 

"And stupidly heroic."

At that, Peter only hummed in response. It was something he hadn't necessarily only heard, but had told himself multiple times. It was truly unnecessary to hear it from someone like _the Vulture_ , of all people. 

"I thought you'd stop after I threatened you earlier," the man started again, "but then I hear that you had a little run in with one of the guys behind your school." Toomes shook his head. "I underestimated you, Spider-Man."

There was no response on Peter's side. 

"So tell me. . . why did you do it?" he asked.

"Why did I do what?" Peter followed up.

"Save me," the man answered. "Why did you save me?"

Peter released a breath, gaze fluttering upward to look at the sky, dark smoke from the fires rising high. "Because," he started, "you made a mistake, you did bad things, but. . . that doesn't mean you had to die."

Toomes was silent for a few moments before speaking once more. "Again, stupidly heroic."

"Yeah, well, it's just common sense in my head," Peter added. Glancing down at Toomes once again, he bit down on the inside of his cheek. "You're not running," he pointed out. 

"Don't think I could even if I wanted to," responded the man, tone bitter. "I was crushed by my own damn suit, remember?"

Ah, it seemed that'd slipped Peter's mind. "Right. So you can't move?"

"Just don’t think I'd get very far."

Peter surveyed the other, and aside from a few scratches on his face and a bit of torn or burned clothing, he really couldn't see any injuries that would impair the other's ability to move. He was slightly confused, but he didn't question it. 

Instead, he raised his arm, pressing down on his web shooter to detain the man's limbs, making him actually immobile. "I have to make sure you don't go anywhere. I have a bit of work to do now." He gestured to the wreckage of the plane. 

Toomes showed visible irritation at being webbed to the ground, jaw clenched. "So what? I'm just gonna stay here?"

"Yeah?" Peter responded. "That's the plan for now."

And with that, Peter went off, back into the fiery terrain of the beach. Going past the flames, he made it to where the cargo of the plane had fallen, and he got to work, picking up everything he could find. When he gathered what he believed to be everything, he moved it all to where Toomes had been detained. After stacking all the cargo up into a pile, he stepped aside. Brushing himself off, he took a moment to admire his work.

"Yeah, very nice. Can you do something about these webs now?" a voice asked from behind him. 

Peter turned around, looking down at the other male. "Oh, right," he mumbled. "You're still not free to go, you know."

"I figured as much," the man grunted as Peter ripped the webs off of one of his ankles. Once he did the other, he was once again surprised that the man still didn't at least attempt to leave. 

"Why aren't you trying to escape?" Peter asked while ripping another web from his wrist.

Toomes's lips pursed, and he looked as though he didn't want to answer that question. Regardless, he still did. "Because I know it's pointless."

"Because I can catch you?"

"No," he huffed. "It's because of everything you've undone for me."

Peter looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. "What?" 

"My suit, my men," he started, "they're gone. I don't have anything that can get me out of this. Without that suit, I can't get myself out of here and I can't contact any of my men. Not to mention, that same suit crushed me."

Peter had his mouth opened, ready to respond, but the man seemed adamant to continue speaking. "But then there's you. I don't know what happened to your suit, but you've been parading around in these weird pajamas, and still managed to stop me. For God's sake, I dropped a building on you, and you managed to get yourself out of it without a heap of metal on your back. And now, here you are, as if none of that happened, saving my life after I almost killed you again." He finally paused, shaking his head. "I feel like I owe you this one."

"You. . . owe me?" Peter asked.

"Yeah. After all that, I really do."

To say Peter was astonished was an understatement. He was confused out of his mind—astonished, even. He hadn’t expected to hear any of those things come out of the mouth of a villain. But then, when he thought about it, maybe Toomes wasn’t necessary a villain. A bad guy, yes, but not a villain. He didn’t do what he did because he was trying to make others suffer; he was doing what he believed he had to to survive, for his family. A villain wouldn’t do that.

“So. . . I win?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah, I guess you do,” Toomes agreed. “You win.”

At the man’s surrender and Peter’s apparent victory, the teenager found himself smiling. He quickly hid it, clearing his throat to wipe the expression from his face. When Toomes was finally able to move all his limbs, he sat up, and Peter took that opportunity to move behind him, gathering his wrists and tying them together with yet another web. 

Toomes was then moved over to the tower of cargo, and Peter took his web and wrapped him and all of Tony’s belongings together. “This is. . . still necessary. Even if you did surrender and all that.”

The older male hummed. “I figured as much.”

Once they were secured, Peter stood back and surveyed what he’d done. He hummed thoughtfully to himself right as his eye caught a paper in the pile, fluttering from the wind. He moved to grab it. Once it was in his hands, an idea sparked, and he went searching in the pile of cargo for any kind of writing utensil. After rummaging through a few of the boxes on the top, he located a pen. 

He then leaned against the pile and began writing a short note:

_FOUND FLYING VULTURE GUY._

_SPIDER-MAN._

_P.S. SORRY ABOUT YOUR PLANE._

And with that finished, he placed it on the pile, tucked under a box so it didn’t fly away in the wind that was beginning to pick up. He stepped back, eyes catching Toomes’s. “I know someone’s probably on their way already—the police or maybe even some of Mr. Stark’s people.”

He turned around after that, not expecting to hear a response from the other. He was ready swing away, but the older man apparently had something to say. 

“Hey Peter,” he called. The teenager turned around. “Thank you.”

Peter swallowed. “Yeah. . . you’re welcome.”

Silence fell among them, the sounds of the wind, the flames, and the distant water the only sounds left. Peter took in a deep breath before he raised his arm, shooting a web onto the closest tall surface and swinging away.

Instead of heading straight home, Peter decided to perch himself on top of the Cyclone ride, figuring he could keep watch until someone arrived. His eyes scanned over the beach; the flames engulfed a good portion of the sand, and, to the right, he could make out a small pile that he knew the man he defeated was tied to.

It didn’t take too long until help arrived, fire engines blaring their sirens, and Peter was sure a panicked Happy Hogan was somewhere amongst them as well. Sighing, the last portion of tension Peter had been holding was released, and he, wounded and weary, allowed his eyes to shut.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my take on this missing scene!
> 
> Also, apologizes if this was short. I had a bit of trouble with pacing.


End file.
